The Apple of his Eye
by The Wuzzy
Summary: When Draco finds the mysterious Apple...his life is changed irrevocably. An epic tale of love, tragedy and destiny. Draco/Apple. Slight slash, and lots of melodrama. T to be safe.


**Well helloooo everyone!**

**I just had to write a Drapple fic, the ship is hilarious. I've taken this as an opportunity to poke fun at Malfoy, because he's a total slimeball, even though I end up feeling sorry for him (and Tom Felton is sexy as anything.) There will be laughs. There will be angst. There will be tears. There will be serious melodrama and overreacting! There will also be discreet references to Bugsy Malone and the Lion King!**

**If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be posting this online now would I.**

**Enjoy, my fellow geeks. **

**The Apple of his Eye**

Draco was bored. And when he was bored, he sulked.

He sulked all through the morning, and he was determined to sulk all through the afternoon.

The next lesson was Care of Magical Creatures, so he began to sulk even harder. I mean, who even cared about the stupid lesson anyway?

He sulked all the way out of the castle and over the grounds to the gamekeepers hut. His mood wasn't even improved by Goyle managing to trip up three times, over a daisy stalk, then a pebble, then over a speck of dust.

He shouldn't have to be here, surrounded by idiots. He was Draco Malfoy, age fourteen and Prince Of Slytherin. He had an entire contingent of second and first year fangirls, (well, five,) and some in the years above too (well, possibly one), even some on the staff (he could swear that Professor Binns leered at him during History of Magic).

He also had Pansy, the thought of which just made him sulk even harder.

He, Draco Malfoy, did not need to bother with mere Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Especially ones taught by that pathetic oaf, Hagrid. Draco's lips curved in a sneer. Why on earth that idiot was allowed to teach, he'd never know. God, the school was going to the dogs.

And, as if his day could get even worse, the lesson was paired with the Gryffindors.

"Hello Draco," came a breathless voice at his arm, "How was your lunch?"

It was Pansy. "Lunch was boring, because you were there," drawled Draco, "and you already asked me that five minutes ago. And also ten minutes ago. And five minutes before that aswell."

Pansy burst into shrieking gales of laughter. "You're so funny Draco!" she screeched. Then she grabbed hold of his arm, grip vicelike. She stared into his eyes. Her pug nose twitched, and she blinked heavily.

"Will you go out with me?" she whispered in a husky, breathy voice.

"Do you have a cold?" Draco said. "No," he added sulkily.

"Oh goody!" Pansy screamed, clapping her hands together. "I love you so much, my lickle Dracy-poo! We're going to have so much _fun!" _She linked her arm through his, and before he could protest, planted a massive slobbering kiss on his lips. Then she sprinted off, giggling.

After Draco had finished retching, he looked at Crabbe and Goyle. "Didn't I say no?" he asked.

Goyle and Crabbe looked at eachother, and then shrugged.

"Dunno, boss," Crabbe grunted.

"Me neither, boss," Goyle agreed.

Draco sulked even harder.

Draco sulked as Hagrid appeared and led them through the forest, with St Potter and the rest of his useless posse. The weasel brat was talking to his little frizzy haired mud-blood friend, and Draco scowled. God, how he hated Hermione Granger. In fact, she was probably the one person he hated the most in the entire universe…other than Potter.

"Open your books to page 109," the oaf was saying.

"Exactly how do we do that?" Draco sneered.

"What's a book, boss?" asked Crabbe in a whisper.

"Shut up, Goyle."

"Sorry, boss."

"Jus' stroke the spine of course!" came Hagrid's reply.

Draco arched a perfect blonde eyebrow, and yanked his new book 'Monster Book of Monsters' out of his bag. He stared at it, and it growled, struggling against the silver serpent clasp belt he'd tied it up with. Yet another example of how ridiculous this entire farce was. I mean the book tried to _bite _you!

(Not that people trying to bite him wasn't something Draco was entirely used to, of course. People tried to bite him _all the time. _They said it was because he was a git, but he knew it was just sheer animal attraction.)

First time it had happened with the book, he'd just got back to Malfoy Manor after a trip to Diagon Alley, and his personal shopper had unloaded his stuff into his bedroom. He'd put his hand inside a bag, only to have him fingers bitten. With a yelp, he'd jumped back, knocking the bag over, and a hairy, brown snarling book fell out. He'd jumped on top of his bed with a shriek. After getting over the shock, he had watched it snuffling and chomping around on the floor with horrified fascination, sucking on his injured fingers.

Eventually, he'd yelled loud enough for his father to come in, irritated that someone had interrupted his afternoon nap. Lucius had taken one look at his teenage son, and told him to stop being such a pathetic wimpy coward, and in the name of Merlin, get down off the antique furniture and live up to his family name by dealing with the blasted book. After fuming for ten minutes that he didn't have a house elf to clean up for him any more, Draco had finally dashed off the bed, and, dancing around on tiptoes to avoid having his Armani trouser legs chomped, thrown clothes and pillows at it until it became so buried it couldn't move. Then he'd wailed and cried until his mum came in, and she'd threatened to slap him for having such a big a tantrum. Eventually, however, he persuaded her to tie the book up for him, and tidy his room.

Now, he heard a cry and a thud behind him as Longbottom was attacked to the ground by his book.

What a pathetic wimpy coward, thought Draco.

He, unlike Longbottom on the other hand, was a master manipulator, and with one stroke of an elegant finger the book fell placidly open in his palm.

The oaf lumbered off to fetch whatever measly, idiotic creatures it was he'd decided to procure for today's lesson.

In the meantime Draco amused himself by pretending to be a dementor with Crabbe, Goyle, and some weird skinny kid who'd appeared out of nowhere, with the intention of pissing off Potty. Potty and his snivelling friends weren't impressed, which was sort of the point. Then they had a standoff. Crabbe and Goyle clapped their hands, chanting "Crush him, boss!" Pansy was screaming something along the lines of "I love you Draco! Just remember that! You can do this, Dracy-poo, my love for you makes you _strong_!"

Draco swaggered right up to Potter, smirking, as he knew that behind him the Slytherin girls were going weak at the knees...or at least Pansy was anyway.

The Hippogriffs all rolled their eyes at eachother in disgust. _Loser, _they all thought simultaneously in Hippogriff speak.

Draco was pleased to note that Potty was practically three feet shorter than him. Hah.

He straightened himself up to his full height to deliver his final crushing insult to Potter.

"Your matriarchal progenitor," he intoned, "is horizontally challenged to such a degree, that her patronus is a cake."

Proud of himself, he turned and swaggered back into the crowd of cheering Slytherins.

The Gryffindor looked at eachother in bemusement.

"Oh Draco," cackled a voice from behind him, as an arm snakily linked through his. "You're so brave and clever and _sooooo _funny. I totally knew what you meant, by the way, when you said that Harry's mattress was a horizon channel."

Draco tried to think of a suitable hex, but then something occurred to him, and he turned to look at Pansy.

"So I'm clever and brave and funny?"

"Oh, yes."

"And am I handsome as well?" he asked. "The most devilishly attractive human being on the planet?"

Pansy sighed in adoration, and her eyes watered, "Oh yes Draco," she tittered, "You're so sexy that everyone just drops dead of your sexiness when you walk into the room! Even the giant squid and the Bloody Baron have wet dreams about you! You're so sexy, you make Professor Snape look like the backside of a crumple-horned Snorkack!"

Draco smiled smugly to himself. "Exactly," he drawled.

You know what? He could get used to this.

"Pansy, you're my girlfriend now," he said.

"What are you on about?" she frowned. "We're already married!"

Married? thought Draco. But before he could protest, Hagrid returned. Draco's eyes popped as four Hippogriffs stalked into the paddock, pawing the ground and shaking out their feathers, but he quickly pretended that he wasn't impressed.

He went back to standing by the tree. God, but this lesson was boring.

Draco casually reached inside his bag, not looking for anything in particular. Then his fingers closed on something smooth and round.

What was this? He pulled it out.

It was an apple.

But this wasn't just any apple.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Draco's eyes widened in amazement – he knew, without being told, that this was not just an apple…it was simply…_Apple._

"What's dat, boss?" grunted Goyle.

Draco didn't hear him.

Apple sat, gorgeous, green and glistening on his palm. Apple was almost perfectly spherical in shape other than for two exquisite dimples above and below, where Apple's stem would have sprouted from. But Apple did not have a stem. Draco knew that Apple had not been plucked from any mortal tree.

"Draco," whimpered Pansy, "What is it? Why are you looking at it like that?"

"Shut up Pansy," said Draco, not taking his eyes off Apple for a second. "You're dumped."

Pansy burst into tears, and ran off, wailing.

Draco continued to gaze at Apple.

A hush had descended over the rest of the students.

Harry Potter stared, green eyes gleaming.

"Where did you get that?" he asked. His voice sounded slightly choked.

Draco did not tear his gaze from Apple. He did not want to ever look away again from the stunning marvel he held clasped tightly in his palm.

"I don't know," he murmed, "Apple just…appeared in my bag, as though…"

…_as though Apple had chosen to be there._

Then the unbelievable truth struck Draco, and he felt weak at the knees with the realisation.

He, Draco, had been chosen.

Apple…wanted…him.

And instantly, in that moment, he knew. He knew that Apple _felt_ him, just as he could feel Apple. He knew that a bond had been awakened, a bond newly formed, and yet so deep, so ancient, that it was all though their souls had been entwined since before the beginning of time.

And perhaps they had.

A feeling so powerful overcame Draco that he almost passed out. It was greater and more terrifying than love. It was warmer and more transcendent than awe. It was more all consuming than any obsession. Whatever it was, Draco knew that from this moment on, things would never be the same. His life would be devoted to Apple.

Apple…was his destiny.

Slowly, as though they had come to the same realisation, the Slytherin students around him, sank to their knees in wonder and adoration, heads bowed in honour.

The Gryffindors, and Hagrid, stared. Hermione's arms were folded. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were snickering. Ron looked slightly confused. Neville was frowning, and Dean and Seamus weren't paying attention and were having a thumb war. Hagrid had raised one bushy eyebrow. It looked like a caterpillar had escaped onto his forehead.

But Harry stood, apart from them all, staring at Draco. His eyes were wide, and he was panting. His hand stretched out, shaking.

"Give Apple to me," he croaked.

Draco stared. "Over my dead body," he said.

"Give. Apple. To me."

Harry's eyes bored into Draco. Eyes so similar to the colour of Apple…and yet where Apple was radiant to behold…Harry's eyes burned with an unholy fire.

Draco did not know how he knew. But in that moment, he knew that Harry would do everything in his power to get his hands on Apple. And if he did…he would hurt Apple.

He would _eat_ Apple.

"I would never betray Apple," whispered Draco, "Least of all to a short-arsed half blood brat like you."

With a hideous, strangled howl, Harry leapt on Draco. They collided in mid air and fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs, Draco desperately clutching Apple to his chest. Harry, shrieking in his rage, grabbed Draco by the neck, and began to choke him.

"Give Apple to me!" Harry shrieked.

"I would rather die!" yelled Draco, but it came out as a squeak.

Harry's burning green eyes narrowed. "Apple is _mine,_" he hissed.

"I think not, you common oik, you pleb!" said Draco, and kneed him in the balls.

Harry rolled off Draco, moaning in a very high pitched tone, and Draco scrambled to his feet, panting desperately. "My father will hear about this!" he spluttered. He just _knew _that his perfectly combed hair had been ruined. How dare that peasant touch him? Did Potter have any idea how much his salon cut had cost?

And yet these, something which a mere hour ago would have sent him into a fit, barely even passed through his mind. There was but one thing he cared about now, and one thing alone.

_Apple._

Terrified, he unclasped his hands and inspected Apple all over, breath hitching in his throat.

Apple was unscathed.

Thank Merlin.

Harry stood, scratching his head with his friends, who had stood up again. The feverish glint had gone from his eye. He looked confused…as though the whole thing had been a fit of madness.

"Harry, what in the name of Merlin has gotten into you?" Hermione was asking.

"I… I don't know," he said.

"Well whatever it is," said Ron, "I reckon it has something to do with that apple thing Malfoy is ogling. Just ignore him. You know what a pervert he is."

"I didn't know you were a prefect, boss," grunted Crabbe. "And what's an ogling?"

Longbottom snorted. Draco would usually have thrown something (Goyle's bookbag) but now, their petty insults didn't seem important anymore.

Only Apple was important.

"You're right," said Harry, agreeing with Ron, "I think I just had a temporary nervous breakdown." The other Gryffindors murmered in assent.

Draco tentatively looked down at the precious fruit he was holding in his hands. Apple gleamed greenly.

Was this what Apple did to people? Drove them insane through lust and desire, so that they turned savage, just as Potter had done?

Draco then knew that it was his sworn, solemn duty to protect Apple from traitors such as these.

"Fear not, Apple," he cooed, "You're safe now. I saved you."

Apple didn't say anything – well obviously. Apple was, in essence, an apple. And yet Apple was so much more…

Draco gazed at Apple. Apple gazed back.

Slowly, reverently, Draco raised Apple to his lips. All he wanted to do, was to kiss Apple.

His lips closed on Apple's smooth skin. Apple was polished to perfection, and in the gleam of Apple's circular highlight, Draco could see his own grey eyes reflected.

Eyes which were filled…with desire.

And then he bit down hard.

His teeth broke the skin with a satisfying crack, and sank into the cream coloured flesh. Succulent juices flooded into his mouth, and set his taste buds on fire. His heart pounded faster, and he couldn't stop himself. He had never felt so alive. He bit again, and again, chewing the delicious fruit, and as he swallowed each piece he felt it burn a trail of euphoria down his throat. Juice ran down his chin. He saw nothing but the green of Apple – the bright, beautiful, unearthly green, which filled his vision and threatened to consume his very soul.

And then, suddenly, he stopped.

He stared at what was left of Apple. Apple, who lay helplessly in his hand, ravaged with bite marks, clumps of flesh torn away, insides exposed to the world. Apple was a wreck of Apple's former self – Apple's beauty had been sullied and spoiled.

Forever.

Draco's blood turned to ice.

"What have I done?" he whispered.

He felt his heart tear in two inside him. He had failed. He had sworn to be Apple's protector – to care for Apple's every need – to love Apple until the end of time –

And he had become the very think he most despised.

He had eaten Apple.

The other Slytherins stared at him in incredulous, silent horror. Draco did not feel their gazes. Nothing anyone could do would be able to add to the guilt, self loathing and misery, which flooded through him.

He could not say sorry. Words would be far too little, and far too late. Yet, he knew what he must do.

As though in a dream, he turned to one of his minions. It may have been Crabbe. But then again, it could also have been Goyle. Was it the skinny one who'd appeared out of nowhere this year? Draco did not know. Draco did not care.

"Take care of Apple," he whispered. Trembling, he pressed Apple into his minion's hand.

"But what do I do with this, boss?"

"Do everything you can to try and heal Apple. I was not worthy. I was chosen," Draco closed his eyes, "…and I failed."

He now had only one purpose. To repay the heinous crimes he had committed.

And there was only one way this could be done.

Slowly, he walked forward, and students parted to make way for him. Draco walked forward towards the great, feathered, furred, clawed, tailed, beaked, and fearsome creature that stood across from him on the other side of the paddock.

Buckbeak.

Beaky turned the yellow lamps of his eyes on Draco, but Draco did not flinch.

"You saw what I did," he whispered, "There is only one thing I deserve." He tilted back his head, closing his eyes and holding out his arms. "End me."

_What an idiot, _though Buckbeak, _it was only a granny smith. Everyone knows that pink ladies are far superior. But, what the hell, never let it be said that I was one to pass up an opportunity to maul a Malfoy._

Buckbeak reared up, with a cry, bronze feathers gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Tears streamed down Draco's face.

The knifelike talons slashed down.

Draco crumpled to the ground. But before the world went black, he had one final thought.

_Apple, I am so sorry_.

_Goodbye, my love._

**Ta daa! Please review, it makes me feel happy. **

**At the moment, I know this ending is tragic… but I've got more up my sleeve. Ten reviews asking for more, and I'll write another chapter of this epic love saga…could it be that Draco has survived…and that Apple can be healed…? Can they ever be together again…? :D**


End file.
